


Reinventing Your Exit

by JueJueBahn



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal, And Failing Miserably, Bitches Broken Hearts, Blowjobs, Bottom Oswald Cobblepot, Frotting, I apologise, I guess if we’re being honest we can pretend the 10yrs later didn’t happen, M/M, POV Change, Post canon, Sickfic, Songfic, Top Edward Nygma, UST, aka oz being a horny teen, bats ain't fking around, body image issues, but also a swooning princess, but also batman is a nightmare, but it's got a bit of buildup, but then smut, ed is the nicest and most patient nurse, ed is trying not to be, ed is very methodical about sex, fic is bound to go through slight changes cuz i am an editing junkie, i just love these two bickering too much, i think this fic was darker in my head than it turned out to be, if it takes me longer than we all hope to finish this, if u think about them too much, is it ed who has a bit of a sexual asphyxiation kink, listen, mentions of past bullying, my mental health has been all over the place in this lockdown, or is it me, or like some aspects of it, oz is a virgin, oz is so emotionaaaal, oz is the worst patient, oz thinks that’s embarrassing, oz’ first romance, post s05, sofia is the devil, the boys r learning how to empathy, the gcpd r idiots, there will be smut, unbeta’d, we shall never know, well i dunno maybe cuz it kinda is a lot of the time xD, well not for long, which is what oz does, why do i insist on making sex awkward?, why does every fic i write turn out longer than i intended
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-27 19:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30127539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JueJueBahn/pseuds/JueJueBahn
Summary: Oz is beaten up and unconscious and Ed has made it his business of saving (kidnapping) him from GCPD custody.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot & Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	1. Uninviting Every Warning

**Author's Note:**

> yeah hi so here I am right back again with another gotham fic xD  
> i dunno- i guess i really like the idea of taking the events of gotham as these characters’ actual backstory and then placing them in the sort of classical batverse, and see where things go from there?  
> cuz i also have weird random well not fics but just scenes stuck in my head of them years later and just doing their own thing but then like meeting up cuz batman troubles and i guess just reconnecting or whatever xD yeah seems to be my thing these days.  
> it’s an obsession rn I mean how many times can u rewatch gotham during lockdown honestly xD  
> btw this song has been in my library for EVER (omg i am so old, I won’t tell ya what age I was when this song came out xD lemme just tell ya there r photos of me where I have pretty much penguin hair. only in blonde or multicolored >.>) but i only just accidentally found the acoustic version when I wrote this and fell super in love with it, so pls check it out if you want <3 it’s from ‘out of the badlands’ by aaron gillespie :)  
> i know it’s technically a break-up song or at least that’s what i always thought; but i think it fits these two idiots very well  
> how did finneas sneak in here? i dunno I guess this is officially a songfic now. of two songs. that don’t go together at all except I love em both.  
> omg i know my notes r too long facepalm bye  
> more details on the setting of this fic in endnotes! :)

Ed has turned off the siren and blue light a few blocks before he reached his current hideout. His plan has worked out just the way he has intended, which never fails to get him into a good mood, as worried as he might be about the state of his sole passenger. But he will get him back on track, he’s sure of it, rolling in through the huge steel doors and closing them up again via remote once the ambulance is safely parked. He gets out and sheds the white lab coat he’d quickly thrown over his police uniform when he’d stolen the emergency vehicle, and throws it onto the drivers seat, then walks to the car’s back door and opens up.

There he is: Gotham’s most powerful crime lord, knocked out and battered in his dirty half torn suit. Ed pulls out the stretcher and leans over to check if Oswald is still breathing- he is, loud and labored, but very much alive- well his injuries certainly weren’t life-threatening, as horrid as he looks with the black eye and bruises across his face. He also has an obvious gun shot wound on one upper arm. Any other body parts will have to be assessed asap.

“Hey there. Seen better days, have you. Luckily, you’re pretty much unkillable” he says to Oswald’s stagnant face and giggles at the made-up word. There’s a few things from the ambulance he figures he will need to treat Oswald- medical scissors, forceps, gauzes, disinfectant- and he quickly drops them onto the stretcher next to Oswald’s legs, then starts rolling the gurney across the hall.

The warehouse is filled with various things- from simple furniture, things Ed’s taken apart or parts he still needs for all his unfinished projects, to those paintings he stole from an art gallery the week before, and more sensitive equipment like explosives and other chemicals. On the far side of the vast cluttered hall there’s a video wall and a desk with a few computers- it’s sort of his day to day living area, with a sofa beside it and another table facing the only usable entry to the warehouse, where he usually works on his knick-knacks and traps. A small cubicle is separated from the hall by an 8 foot high half wall with a door, leading to a little room with a kitchenette- where he’s placed a queen sized bed- and an adjoining bathroom.

This is where he’s taking Oswald, whistling as he goes along.

He’d slipped the man some painkillers and a sedative when he’d loaded him into the ambulance, so he’s sure Oswald will be a calm and complying patient for at least a couple of hours. Ed remembers Oswald having been almost unconscious already when he had found him in the back of a cop car about an hour earlier. It won’t do to give into his rage now though, so he shoves that memory to the back of his head so he can think clearly while tending to Oswald’s injuries. He’s used to that- suppressing his emotions when he has a task at hand.

When he has the stretcher next to the bed, he sheds his police jacket and arranges all the medicine and bandages in a neat little row on the bedside table. Then he gets the scissors. Surely Oswald has enough fancy suits so he won’t mind this one having to go- especially with how much damage it apparently has taken anyway. The jacket and shirt are the first victims, two incisions straight through either sleeve and, what the heck- cutting is quicker than unbuttoning the front- and he’s met with Oswald’s bare upper body, which is black and blue, but at least no gashes or wounds. Ed catches himself staring for a minute, and not just at the injuries.

Oswald has dropped quite some weight since his last release from prison- Ed wonders if this isn’t the thinnest he’s ever seen the man, and if Oswald has been under a lot of stress lately. It is very probable, what with the man responsible for Oswald being bruised haunting the city every night. But he plans to offer Oswald a little relaxation during his recovery (or force it onto him) and this little penguin definitely needs to be fed as soon as he’s awake. There’s ideas for meals with the most nutritional value already running through his head as he carefully pulls the remainder of the sleeves off Oswald’s arms.

During the drive Ed hadn’t been able to hear any potential noise Oswald might have made, but since their arrival the man has been calm so far. Ed anticipates a change in that behaviour when he starts tending to Oswald’s arm, and he’s not disappointed- even only assessing the severity of the bullet wound makes Oswald twitch and groan in his unconscious state, but Ed is glad to find it seems to have been more of a grazing shot. The weapon must have been a shotgun though, and the injury is laced with small grains. It will take a while to clean. His arms are also covered in contusions, but there’s no signs of any breaks, which is good.

Oswald really is like a bird, Ed muses, a skinny lithe little thing when it comes down to it, when he’s stripped of all his layers of expensive suits and furs and feathers. He’s all bony joints and pronounced tendons and pale skin interrupted by patches of freckles, and scars- some older, some newer. Ed thinks he seems vulnerable, and dangerously feisty at the same time. It fits his personality very well, and to Ed, he’s all kinds of oddly captivating, always has been, but this is the first time he lets himself think of Oswald as beautiful, even with the bruises littering his body. Maybe because of them- they tell his story for him, at least part of it.

He carefully swipes the man’s hair from his forehead and behind his ears. Oswald is hot to the touch, and his skin is moist with sweat. He makes a mental note to get a towel but is ripped out of his thoughts when he notices another injury.

There’s a set of bright marks on Oswald’s neck and Ed can’t hold down a gasp when he sees it, instinctually reaching out and stopping himself at the last moment. Strangely along with his utter disgust at Oswald being hurt, and rage at the people who did this to him, a conflicting kind of jealousy worms its way into his emotional state. He thinks of how it would feel to wrap his hand around Oswald’s throat, the way he had with Miss Kringle, and Isabella, and to hear Oswald gasp his name, and he’s full on shaking as he finally lets himself touch, just a brush of fingertips against the red streaks. How dare anyone touch Oswald like this- anyone but him?

Oswald makes a pained noise that pulls Ed out of his stupor and he mentally slaps himself for getting off track. He clears his throat and goes back to examining the damage. Focusing his attention a little lower, he prods carefully along the worst of the bruises on Oswald’s torso, and listens to the man’s breathing turning even shallower. Oswald moans again and Ed is no doctor but he’s pretty sure there’s some cracked ribs underneath that blue and red canvas.

Moving on, Ed removes Oswald’s leg brace and shoes and cuts off the trousers. There does not seem to be much damage to his lower body aside from a scraped knee and of course his bad leg. Ed runs his fingers along it lightly, it’s not exactly every day you get to see old wounds that never properly healed. The fractures hadn’t been set correctly and Ed thinks it must have been hell to live through that without professional medical attention. What a tough little thing Oswald is. His shin feels slightly crooked and the skin there is webbed with scars. Ed wonders if it still hurts.

“Okay” he says to himself and cracks his knuckles.

He gets that towel from his mental notes and makes it wet on one end, then puts on some disposable gloves. Now completely returned to his own calamity via focusing on something, he cleans Oswald’s wounds- the few on his face and his knee, his hands. Glad to find there’s no deep gashes or cuts that need stitching, he simply has to put some iodine tincture on the worst scrapes and use a couple bandaids and gauze. The bullet wound is another matter entirely.

Ed doesn’t mind repetitive tasks, it’s actually exactly his wheelhouse- those detail oriented, tedious jobs that no one else seems to want to do, he’s always liked doing them. It’s part of why he got a vocation in forensics in the first place, and why he used to spend more hours in the GCPD than he got paid for, or constantly got told off for stepping out of line when he messed with the victim’s bodies although he’s no medical examiner. Even without a mystery to be discovered or puzzle to solve, working on delicate and copious assignments has always calmed him down.

So he has no problem with how long it takes to pick every tiny piece of shrapnel from Oswald’s wound, or even the interruptions when he has to dab away all the fresh dribbles of blood his prodding tweezers cause. He’s just getting exhausted, what with his adrenaline from the recovery mission fading, and early morning creeping in. And although he usually thinks of himself as a practical man, Oswald’s physical reactions and moans are getting to him. When he finally deems to be done, and has disinfected and wrapped up the wound, he’s more than ready for a few hours of sleep.

There’s one more difficult part ahead though- moving Oswald onto the bed. Even with the assistance of the gurney’s height being about right, it’s harder than he thought to pull the unconscious man over, and Oswald grunts passed-out objections a few times through the process.

“Sorry, buddy” Ed mumbles under his breath, then huffs in satisfaction when he’s finally managed to place the man on the mattress.

He makes a quick trip back to the ambulance to leave the gurney there and find some scrubs, pondering how to treat cracked ribs. When he gets back to the room he takes some bags of frozen vegetables from the kitchen and sits down next to Oswald, pulling him up carefully.

Oswald doesn’t rouse, only makes a quiet sleepy noise of agony when Ed has to lean the smaller one against his chest so he can wrap a bandage across his torso. Leaving him there, Oswald’s head on his shoulder, he reaches out and makes a little pillow tower against the bed’s headboard in order to keep Oswald more upright, so he won’t have as much trouble breathing.

It’s a bit awkward to pull the scrubs over the man’s head and his arms through the sleeves, but when it’s finally done, Ed lays Oswald back against the pillows in a half-seat, places one of the frozen bags on Oswald’s ribs and pulls the blanket up to his chest.

“There” he adds happily and watches his patient for a bit longer. Oswald looks paler than he usually does, and strangely docile with his sleeping face and his hair all flat. A little while passes where Ed keeps sitting by his side and gently holding another ice pack to Oswald’s black eye, brooding quietly over what to do next. He’s on the run from the law either way, but so is Oswald now that Ed’s snatched him right out of GCPD custody, and oh he can’t even think of the bat again right now, or he will get too mad- he has to shelf that problem for when Oswald has recovered a bit. All he figures now is retaliation will be coming, and he plans to make it spectacular. He’s sure Oswald will be on board.

~ ~ ~

Oswald doesn’t know where he is, or how he got there, or even the last thing he remembers- all he knows is he’s in pain and his limbs are not cooperating with his brain. And something smells good.

He tries to open his eyes and this isn’t right, he can’t really see anything but blurs- oh yeah, he’s using a monocle now, isn’t he, where is that?

The attempt to lift his arms hurts so much he hears himself groan, and his mouth is dry and his head feels split in two, and actually every bone in his body feels split in two. A darker blur suddenly appears in front of him and for a second he feels panic well up inside- he wants to say something, ask so many questions, but he can’t really figure out what they were, and also moving his mouth seems like too much effort.

He thinks he moans again and hears someone talk but he can’t understand what’s being said and then that voice just sounds disappointed. There’s a prick in his arm and he should really react here, but his pain suddenly seems far away and then the world turns upside down and goes dark again.

~ ~ ~

For most of the next day Oswald stays asleep and Ed finds himself pondering over feelings he’s made a habit of not touching on. Maybe he’s getting sentimental, because once again he’s nursing Oswald back to health- he can’t help remembering the last time the man had been an involuntary guest in his bed. He thinks of how their friendship had formed, and their partnership during Oswald’s political endeavours. He thinks of Oswald’s confession and his betrayal.

It’s strange how he can still remember to a fault how dark and full of hatred his emotions and actions of vengeance had been back then, and yet simultaneously finding he has long since let go of his grudge against Oswald for what he did to Isabella. Now it all seems more detached from their reality- a tale he read somewhere rather than his own past that he’d actually lived through. He’s sure that if he lets himself, he could get mad about it again- it was a terrible thing Oswald did to him, his best and only friend- but he realises he doesn’t want to. He’d rather focus on his fondness for Oswald, and the respect they share for each other.

There had always been an attraction between them- a mutual admiration, if only at the other’s criminal exploits or cunning at first. And might Oswald’s change of heart not have come at the exact wrong time, he’s not so sure anymore that they might not have ended up together back then. Then more so than now he had not been good at reading another’s intentions towards him, so the knowledge that Oswald cared for him in a romantic way had hit him like a freight train.

Their feelings had never aligned in the right moments- or maybe they had until Ed became infatuated with Isabella, and then of course they hated and hurt each other for so long before finally they decided to land on a tentative friendship. If Isabella had never stepped into his life, surely he’d have given Oswald’s feelings more thought.

He’s never really cared about gender, it had just so happened that his romantic interest had fallen on women when it came to his biggest romances. Then again, his biggest albeit most turbulent romance has been with Oswald in a way, he thinks. Although there had never been any physical aspect to their relationship, in his life Oswald has certainly been the person able to bring out the strongest emotional responses in him- for worse but undeniably also better.

He cannot pretend to himself that he does have no romantic interest in Oswald any longer- The Penguin has wormed his way into easily being the most important person in Ed’s life, a constant he’d tried and failed to get rid of time and time again, and if he’s honest he doesn’t want to be stuck in their friendship anymore. Of course, he’ll take it, if there’s no possibility of going a step further, but he rather vainly feels as if Oswald’s feelings for him are still there- sure, they’d changed over the events that passed between the two of them, but they haven’t disappeared. He’s almost sure there’s still that sad longing in Oswald’s eyes once and again when he looks at Ed.

Oswald mumbles something in his sleep and Ed can’t help but smile as he watches the man. He likes focusing on this- the warmth spreading through his chest when he lets himself indulge on the positive notions he has for Oswald. This is much nicer than feuding and after all, since they had never been able to dispose of each other, he’d much rather get along with the man. He’d thought so years before and he still thinks so now- even though their fights had always been exciting and to some extent fun, he has to admit.

Ed finishes his coffee and puts the mug in the sink. He’s expecting a delivery- mostly groceries and some more bandages and dressings Oswald might need over the next few weeks- and since he’s not keen on letting anyone know of his whereabouts, especially now that he’s harbouring Oswald, he’s set up the exchange in another district. Leaving his patient alone is not exactly ideal, but it’s the best he can do for now, and Oswald is just resting at the moment anyhow.

It’s his main priority, and any explorations of their personal relationship can wait until the man has recovered.

~ ~ ~

The next time Oswald wakes up he feels more like himself, if only slightly. He has to sniff and instantly regrets this decision because he smells something like blood in his nose, and the scent is making him a bit sick. Added to the vertigo he’s already experiencing even though he’s just lying down, it’s a bit hard to take and he moans as he shifts a little, then again because the movement makes him realise he hurts _everywhere_.

He can hear footsteps coming closer but he can’t really concentrate on them, even though they’re a potential threat and he’s apparently not in the best of states to begin with. What he focuses his attention on is opening his eyes, and this time his brain works well enough to notice that he can only manage a squint with his good one. It must be the reason for his sight being so limited. He gets another bout of dizziness from how cloudy the world looks.

“Hey, sleepyhead- now doesn’t this seem familiar?”

It’s Ed’s voice, from right next to him- there he is, in his view, if fuzzy around the edges. This has to be a dream, because he’s been here before- but then Ed is in his shiny green suit and even wearing his hat, and this is not an apartment at all, the ceiling is too high and the echo too vast. Or maybe that’s all in his head.

“I had to step out for a bit, have you been awake for long?”

Oswald blinks a few times and tries to sit up again, but a zing of pain bolts through his system and he gives up. His throat feels sore and there’s a pounding ache in his arm.

“It seems not.”

He’s too hot and sweaty and he can’t think clearly with this headache, and for a frantic moment he has the urge to cry and bemoan himself, because everything sucks and he can’t form a clear thought.

“Do you want another dose? It’s late, maybe a bit more rest would do you good.”

Oswald could kiss him, well he could pretty much always kiss Ed, but he really probably couldn’t right now because he can’t even sit up. He groans in what he hopes Ed will understand as affirmation.

“Alright, but you have to drink some water first.”

Maybe this is a memory after all, or hell- him battered and woozy and useless and Ed annoying him about the same things he had been years ago all over again.

Ed doesn’t let up and holds a glass next to his head, places the straw between his lips and even cradles the back of his head to help him. That alone would be nice if Oswald weren’t so preoccupied with his whole body aching at even these minuscule movements. Swallowing is agony. At least Ed seems happy with him when he’s downed most of the liquid.

“Right-o. See you tomorrow” the brunette quips and injects him with something again. And the last thing that goes through his head is that he’s at least glad it’s Ed- anyone else, even in this defenseless state, he’s pretty sure he would have fought through his pain instead of accepting any drink or drug.

There’s daylight seeping into the room when he comes to, he’s not sure from where, or even how he knows it isn’t artificial light, but he just knows, instinctively. His brain seems to work better this time around as well- everything still hurts but he doesn’t feel so helpless anymore, not as confused, and when he opens his eyes, his surroundings are easier to process as well, not as blurry.

Somewhere to his left there’s shuffling and rustling and he accomplishes turning his head so he can see Ed’s back as the man rummages around a little kitchenette. He’s awake enough now to notice his thirst, as opposed to last night when that was more background noise than anything else.

“Ed?” he manages to croak and the brunette turns around and throws him a smile.

“Hi there. You seem lucid this time around.”

He doesn’t exactly feel like it though, his head is still all kinds of jumbled.

Ed fills a glass with water and sits on a folding chair next to the bed as they repeat the same tedious drinking process as last time, only in this moment Oswald is actually capable of appreciating Ed’s touch and how cool his fingers feel on the nape of his neck. The glass is discarded on the bedside table and Oswald tries to put his thoughts in some form of order. He’s still not quite sure how he ended up in this situation though.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Ed helps him out.

Oswald clears his throat and thinks, staring at the high ceiling and noting that they’re definitely in some kind of warehouse- close to the pier probably, now that he can process his environment he thinks he can hear gulls.

“I had a meeting. Something went wrong.”

Ed nods along as Oswald goes on. His voice sounds raspy and exhausted- pretty much a perfect fit to how he feels.

“Some men showed up. There was a shootout.”

“Yes. You got shot- it’s just a graze, I cleaned out the wound” Ed says and nods to his left arm.

Oh, he remembers now.

“Sofia. Those were definitely Sofia Falcone’s guys. I’m going to kill her.”

“What else, what then?” Ed interrupts his revenge plans.

“I… I got some of them, but… everything got quiet so suddenly. I was running… oh.”

His mind lands on a perfect vision of what he saw, a black cape and pointy mask, a pest he wasn’t able to exterminate and a load of pain as he went down. It’s not only Sofia he has to kill.

Ed hums in understanding and leans forward, forearms propped on his knees. He’s not wearing his hat anymore, or his jacket, and Oswald always thinks he’s handsome, but maybe even more so now because he doesn’t see Edward this relaxed a lot- black shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and no tie, two upper buttons undone. His mind’s going off track again, he kind of wants to put his nose right there where Ed’s shirt falls open and a clavicle is almost visible.

“You got pretty beat up. That batman really isn’t playing around, is he? Gave you over to the good gents of the GCPD. They placed you in a cop car- a cop car, not an ambulance, can you believe it? Imbeciles.”

He’s distracted, so he can’t really focus on how irritated Ed sounds for his sake.

“Anyway I had this old police uniform stashed away, honestly it still is way too easy to sneak someone out of GCPD custody, especially if that someone is knocked out. You’d really think they’d know my face by now, but a prosthetic nose and fake moustache go a long way apparently” Ed rambles on and Oswald’s headache makes itself known again. There’s also something wet on his chest, and he grunts as he pulls the blanket down to be greeted by a moist green bag of something.

“What is this?”

“Frozen beans” Ed says and takes the dripping bag off of him, “Or at least they used to be. Take a deep breath.”

Oswald tries, kind of annoyed to be ordered around but also not exactly fit enough to complain or bicker right now. The result is a stabbing pain in his chest as his lungs fill and he breaks off in a fit of weak coughs that make Ed nervous enough to place both hands on his shoulders and support him as he jerks.

“Whoa, careful there, I think you’ve got some cracked ribs.”

“You don’t say” Oswald manages when he’s got control over his breath back and he falls against the pillows, exhausted and headache full on pulsing.

“Don’t try to force it, relax. I’m pretty sure you’re concussed as well, which means it’s probably not good you were out for so long, but you seemed to really need it” Ed explains and scratches his head, looking almost embarrassed, as if he’s made a rookie mistake by putting Oswald under. It’s actually kind of sweet, Oswald thinks and then berates himself for being mushy.

Ed pats his own knees and his face goes neutral again, then he holds up his hand and waits for Oswald’s eyes to track it.

“How many fingers?”

“Three” Oswald mumbles quickly and Ed smiles, going on.

“Does a human being have?”

“Ten” Oswald says with a roll of his eyes that probably has no impact whatsoever because one of them is swollen almost shut. He hates being injured, he hates feeling vulnerable, he hates playing nice and he doesn’t want to be treated with kid gloves, but it’s also nostalgic to have Ed tend to him, and he has to admit it’s comforting as well. He’s going sappy again. Must be the drugs.

“And a clock?”

“Two. Wait. Unless there’s one for seconds as well, then three” he drawls and that took way too much effort, especially with the pounding in his head. He feels really tired and now that he notices how restricted his breathing is, it’s straight up irritating him. His wounded arm feels like it’s on fire.

“Correct” Ed says happily, “So far so good.”

He gets up and walks over to the kitchenette, placing a pot on the gas stove and switching it on.

“You should eat something. I made soup.”

The last thing Oswald wants to do is move in any way more than he has to, but he has to admit food sounds really good, and it also smells really good and he knows Ed is a really good cook. He tries to sit up a bit straighter and another bolt of pain zings through his torso as he shimmies up.

“Do you have any more painkillers?”

“I do” Ed says as he pours some hot soup into a bowl, “But they might make you a bit woozy.”

“I’m already woozy” Oswald complains and finally dares to lift his hand and prod at his eye a bit. It doesn’t actually feel as bad as he had thought, the worst of the damage is apparently on his chest and stomach, which hurt like hell even when he moves only his arms.

“They might make you woozier.”

Ed produces a bed tray from somewhere and places it over Oswald’s legs.

“I don’t care. Gimme” Oswald tells him, and he would put more angry persistence behind it if he could, but in his current state he sounds more like a petulant child than anything. Ed snickers at him and puts the bowl of soup and a spoon down on the tray.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll give you some that aren’t as strong as what you’ve been on.”

“Give me the stronger ones” Oswald grinds out as he tries to keep his arm from trembling when he reaches out for the spoon.

“No” Ed laughs and Oswald contemplates throwing the spoon at him, but decides against it because his stomach is grumbling. Begrudgingly he starts eating, as Ed sits down next to him again and watches him with a strange attention. Oswald is tempted to call it affection, but he’s pretty sure these sort of feelings might only be his own lingering wishful thinking. He should have gotten over this a long time ago.

“I knew you’d be a difficult patient” Ed smiles.

“From experience?”

Ed laughs, but Oswald doesn’t pay him much mind, focused on how good the soup tastes- pumpkin he thinks, and he hadn’t even realised just how hungry he was until he had some food in his mouth.

“That and because you’re stubborn” Ed says and in any other setting Oswald would have thought the brunette was flirting with him- the statement being said in a tone that made it sound like the most praising compliment he had ever been given, and accompanied by a look that he can only identify as smitten. Surely it must be the concussion messing with him.

“If I give you the strong meds, you’ll just sleep again all day and it really is no fun having you here when you don’t talk back” Ed chastises and Oswald throws him an unamused look. Instead of saying something sarcastic about not having been able to help that, he eats- slowly and with difficulties.

By the time he’s finished another bowl and finally got Ed to hand over some pills, his headache and exhaustion are strong enough to make him hardly realise Ed is still looking at him in that intensely fond way.

“I think I’m going to fall asleep anyway” Oswald mumbles and he already cannot keep his eyes open.

“I’m not going to stop you from taking a nap.”

Oswald is not sure Ed could. He can feel himself drifting off.

“You need to recover. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

When he does, Ed actually is _not_ there- at least not in the room. He can hear a piano from across the wall though, the size of the warehouse warbling the acoustics of the song into something etherial, and he’s not quite awake, not quite sure he’s not dreaming.

“ _Oh, it must be nice  
_ _to love someone  
_ _who lets you break them twice._ ”

Ed has a really good singing voice.

There’s something cold on his chest again, but he can’t find the energy to remove it, even though the temperature is bordering on uncomfortable. He can’t even open his eyes, he’s just along for the ride as he floats in this half-awake state.

“ _Don’t pretend that I’m the instigator,  
_ _you are the one but you were born to say goodbye._ ”

Although he’s hazy and out of it, Oswald manages to feel slightly offended. As if he ever was the only one at fault here.

“ _Kissed me half a decade later,  
_ _that same perfume,  
_ _those same sad eyes._ ”

Well that never happened though, did it? His sick fantasies are really getting out of control, but the slow melancholy of the song is nice and the melody lulls him into zoning out and soon he’s fallen back asleep.

He dreams of Ed with a police cap, then Ed in a white lab coat, then Ed in a nurse’s uniform, and then he dreams of a swarm of bats and suffocating in the dark cloud they create around him. All his mistakes and regrets come out to haunt him: Butch and Babs, his mother is there and Fish, and his father and Gordon, and Sofia and Martin, and then when he wakes up there’s only pain- well, and Edward.

The realisation hits him slowly, it takes a while, until he gets that after all they’d done to each other, he never actually regretted anything about Ed. Surely he wouldn’t do everything the same way all over again, but that’s purely the wisdom of hindsight. And though his eye is still swollen his vision gets clearer every second, and he’s absolutely sure Ed is treating him differently now than how he used to before Oswald got beat down by the bat. He can’t put a finger on what it is- a not quite docile but rather amused patience with him, a barely there sparkle in his eyes when their gazes meet. Either he’s more affected by the concussion or the meds than he thought, or something is going on here that he’s not aware of. And he hates not being in the know. It makes him suspicious- even about Ed. Maybe especially about Ed.


	2. Up Against Your Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one in which Ed is being forced to confess his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo ehm yeah I revisited chap 1: if you haven’t read the updated version, you might wanna cuz I introduced a gunshot wound xD sry  
> i just thought hey I wrote about a shootout and yes I know ppl on gotham be worse than stormtroopers, but wouldn’t it be more realistic if oz actually got shot if they were ambushed  
> didn’t wanna make it a big deal tho, so issa just a scrape i guess  
> (also why so difficult to find out with a quick google search how long minor shot wounds heal -_- meh i guess if it’s just superficial it would be like any other sorta superficial wound right? as long as you get all the stuffs out and it doesn’t get infected xD i dunno i think about these things too much)  
> also I felt like explaining ed’s state of mind a bit more, so I added a bit of inner musings for his pov parts- so there you go, directing you back to ch1 so u ain’t gonna be confused xD
> 
> how did this story suddenly turn so funny, tis me, writing the jonny part rn and i cannot help myself, forgive me xD
> 
> uh-oh editing jue here, tryng rly hard not to be a child and put an author’s note right at the end of the 5th paragraph of his ch, that reads ‘his diiiick!’

It goes on for days, this strange kind of tension- they’ve been friends and they’ve been affectionate and they’ve also tried to kill each other on numerous occasions, but right now it feels to Oswald as if they’re dancing around something he doesn’t want to let himself believe in. Ed is patient and tender with him and there’s some of his old, unaware jolliness back in his manner- more Ed, the lab tech than The Riddler. Whereas they’ve been known to fight over the smallest things, Ed is now indulging all his moods and teasing- Oswald hates being bed-ridden and invalid, and his temper is all over the place whenever he’s awake.

Ed urges him to walk around as much as he can, because apparently it’s not good for his cracked ribs to stay stationary for too long, and also because they had a little dispute about Oswald going to the bathroom- which he won, because if there is any possibility of him moving on his own there is absolutely no way he will let Ed help him relieve himself, and also Ed told him he should be trying to get out of bed anyway.

If Ed has some sort of plan to fuck him over for some reason, he’s none the wiser to it. He’s living off a cocktail of anti-inflammatories for his bullet wound and painkillers, and he’s sure if Ed wanted to slip him something he doesn’t know about, he would have more than enough means to do so, but as far as he can tell, these meds are legit. He doesn’t have any unusual side effects. Exhaustion and pain are his biggest problems.

So he figures Ed isn’t drugging him beyond what he is openly admitting to- after all they eat Ed’s cooking together, so if his food was spiked, the brunette must be drugging himself as well, which would make no sense at all. Oswald is still no closer to figuring out what is going on between them then, or what has happened to Ed to make him so mellow and chipper. Maybe his concussion has done a bigger number on him than he’s initially thought and he’s imagining things afterall.

The other thing is- while Ed is insisting on Oswald staying at his hideout for as long as he needs to recover, Ed isn’t keeping him from contacting his people. Ed of course knows how to keep calls untraceable and messages encrypted, and he doesn’t even pry when Oswald uses a laptop Ed borrows him. Then again, surely Ed could have some kind of setup that lets him read Oswald’s correspondences from the other room, or while Oswald’s asleep. But none of it would make any sense to him- Ed has no reason to betray him, nothing to gain from nursing him and being overly nice to him, after all they were finally on good terms anyhow. If the brunette is buttering him up for something, he has no fucking clue as to what that could be.

He doesn’t even think Ed is very busy at the moment. Most of the time that Oswald is awake (which, granted, is still not exactly a lot), Ed is either with him- cooking, or eating, or gossiping about whatever the papers and the internet tell them is going on in the city around them, reassessing the state of his injuries- or Oswald can hear him tinkering away in the warehouse.

Oswald finds himself getting used to their little setup. Playing house with Dr. Nygma is comfortable he has to admit- as comfortable as he can be with his injuries and his anxiety about what is happening outside, to his clubs and casino; despite what his associates tell him via mails his whole organisation could be crumbling down right now, especially with Sofia prowling around, probably patting herself on the shoulder for her win against him. And he’s still having nightmares daily.

If he dares to let himself believe that Ed is honestly being nice just for the sake of it, he really is the only light in Oswald’s life right now- Ed and maybe his plans of revenge, but his head is still not quite up to forming any sensical schemes. It takes about five days until he gets absolutely sick of the kitchenette/bedroom he’s staying in, and he thinks even with his frequent naps, that’s a lot- he’s deserved some kind of medal for not venturing any further than the bathroom way sooner. He’s prepared to fight Ed on this matter, as he gingerly stalks into the warehouse dressed only in these horrible scrubs and barefooted.

~ ~ ~

Ed’s plan is simple: Sofia is none of his business, he’s pretty sure Oswald will want to take care of this family feud himself; no, his focus is on the bat. It’s very probable he’s taking this too personal because the still visible red marks on Oswald’s neck are a constant reminder of not only his own past mistakes but all kinds of desires he’s usually keeping at bay, because he doesn’t want to analyse that part of his psyche.

He’s never actually had a private tussle with the batman, but he’s going to change that. There’s no harm in admitting that he wants to see what the man behind that mask is made of, but a huge part of his incentive is certainly the pure need to torture the guy. Compared to any of his other heists and crimes this is the biggest endeavour so far, but he’s got time on his side. According to his research, Oswald’s injuries will take at least two and a half more weeks to stabilise, and he has no mind to leave The Penguin until that happens. More than likely, he’s going to have to convince or force Oswald to not leave too soon. He’s not going to get away before his recovery is at a stage that Ed approves of.

He’s in the middle of memorising the shift changes at the downtown aquarium when he’s startled out of his musings by his laptop landing on the desk beside him- a little harder than he would like people to treat technical equipment. He gives Oswald a pass though, because the man is out of breath and leaning against the table top as if he’s just run a marathon.

“You should be resting” he chastises and Oswald closes his eyes in annoyance.

“I” he starts, then catches his breath. Poor thing still cannot get a proper lungful.

“I will go mad if I stay in that bed any longer.”

Inhale.

“Or that room.”

Exhale.

“I need a change of scenery.”

Oswald eyes the couch with a longing he is quickly trying to hide and Ed can’t help but smirk at his tenacity. It’s almost adorable, how offended Oswald is at his own incompetence, even though it is only a very natural and temporally limited side effect of the damage he’d taken.

Then Ed remembers being unable to move after he’d been unfrozen, and he can relate to the impatience Oswald must be feeling to finally get on with planning his retaliation. Luckily, Ed is on it for him- at least part of it.

“It’s better to watch you… work on… your projects” Oswald mumbles, “At least I’ll have company.”

Ed is thinking about it as Oswald waddles over to the sofa. His wound hasn’t got infected and his ribs will just take time, the swelling on his eye has gone down and Ed counts his appetite during their regular meals as a win. All in all he’s doing better every day and it won’t really make a difference whether he rests in the bed or on the couch.

Oswald makes a pained noise as he sits down and then moans contently when he’s seated against a pillow. He looks underdressed for the uninsulated warehouse hall though, so Ed gets up and fetches the blanket from the room for him. When he throws it over the man’s body, Oswald watches him with a surprising intensity- he doesn’t seem weak or foggy at all anymore, this is his usual piercing bright blue gaze, the now just a bit droopy black eye doing nothing to weaken the obvious cunning hiding behind that stare.

Ed just smiles right back. He’s very happy with how well Oswald is returning to his old self. Oswald doesn’t comment, only sighs contently when Ed is back at his desk. It takes maybe two minutes, just when Ed is getting back into his zone, and Oswald pulls him out again.

“Can’t you turn that on?”

“What?” Ed mumbles, distracted with his timetables and a street map he’s calculating quickest routes on- the batman would be going over rooftops, so he needs to find out about building heights, maybe get an aerial picture of the…

“Those screens. I’m sure you can receive channels on here, right?” Oswald says, sounding irritated.

Ed turns in his chair. The sofa is placed so that the back faces him and the desk, but its backrest isn’t very high, and Oswald has his injured arm laying on it and his head resting on the couch’s arm, rolled to the side so Ed can easily get a full view of the “Can you do it _now_?” expression on his face.

“Uh, yeah” Ed says, and rolls around the sofa with his chair, getting the TV remote and an X-Box-controller from beneath the wall of screens. He turns on the computer and switches on one of the monitors, then rolls back until he’s right by his desk beside Oswald, handing him the remote.

Oswald already looks considerably more pleased when Ed logs in via controller and starts up a program he’d adapted to have free access to local and national channels- and all the common streaming services.

It takes a while to teach Oswald how to operate, but he seems content when it’s done, and Ed is back to his work. He doesn’t mind the background noise, even when Oswald keeps zapping through all the channels for minutes on end- he’s used to blocking out the world around him when he’s focusing on something. The only downside is that with his recent discovery and acceptance of his romantic feelings, somehow Oswald giggling at some TV show is able to pierce right through that focus and make his stomach weak. It’s so good to see the man getting back to his senses. His memories of right after he’d buried Miss Kringle are returning- that same satisfaction he’d had back then when Oswald had accepted his Leonard-gift is welling up inside him now. And that is distracting, having to deal with his emotions.

He can’t help but turn and stare at Oswald a bit as the smaller one lounges on his couch and smirks at the screen. When he notices Ed watching him, he huffs and Ed witnesses him turning red in the face.

“Is it… am I disturbing you?”

“No” Ed lies, smiling, “How do you feel?”

“Better” Oswald mumbles and Ed observes the blush reaching his ears, in awe. He has the sudden urge to put his teeth on Oswald’s conch and feel the heat there on his lips.

“Don’t we know you’re good at nursing me back to health.”

Ed feels his smile widen and the warmth in his stomach spread.

“And here we are” he says and waits until Oswald catches his gaze, “Right back where we started.”

Oswald’s eyes widen slightly, then his blush turns deeper and he looks away- and this is it, these moments that make him sure Oswald still loves him, and he feels nothing short of invincible. He’s biting into the pencil he’s holding, because he’s sure his smile would split his face otherwise. Oswald clears his throat awkwardly.

“I wonder if you’re indulging me or I’m indulging you” Oswald whispers under his breath and looks absolutely broken for a second, until he catches himself and fumbles with the remote to switch to another channel.

“What?”

“Nothing. What are you doing over there anyway?”

Oswald’s voice sounds steady and forceful and his barriers are up again. It takes Ed a moment to get himself together, all his past experiences flooding in, how bad he used to be at reading other people’s perceptions about him, how often his ego got in the way of the clarity of reality, even before he became The Riddler. He feels a bit numb, maybe he’s on the wrong trail, maybe he still hasn’t figured Oswald out as well as he thought he had.

Never mind- his plan.

“Aaah, right. The- I’m… well, I’m thinking of sending the bat on a wild-goose chase: a scavenger hunt all throughout Gotham.”

He pats the desk, shuffles a few of his papers together and reaches for a box- it’s not finished, but he turns and shows it to Oswald anyway, who is staring at him wide eyed and slightly confused.

“I’m going to place these- all over the city, hidden. He’s going to have to find them, one leading to the next, but he’s going to have to be clever to figure out where they are…”

Oswald shakes his head suddenly and interrupts him, eyes closed and expression still bewildered.

“You… you’re _telling_ me your plans?”

Ed isn’t sure what to do but stare at him for a few seconds.

“Yes. Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

The way Oswald stares right back makes him a bit insecure, and he gets another flashback- that horrible sinking feeling of realising you’ve been inappropriate in a social situation, but then he gets himself together. He’s not that person anymore, and he hasn’t made any mistakes- it’s perfectly acceptable to share his mischievous schemes with Gotham’s crime lord number one, who is still, let’s face it, his best friend.

Oswald narrows his eyes at him, that pervasive attention once more focused on him. He looks suspicious.

“Well, because… I thought you’d… forget it” he trails off and shakes his head, wiping his face with his hand, then returning his focus to the monitor. Ed gets it now.

“Oswald, do you…”

He doesn’t even know how to phrase this.

“Do you think I’m planning to do you harm?”

He watches Oswald swallow heavily and it shouldn’t be this enticing to see the suffocation marks dance on his throat. It’s really strange how helpless he is against his urges now that he’s owned up to them.

“Well, I’m… you’ll have to forgive my distrustful nature, especially when it comes to you.”

Although he hides it very well, Ed catches the slight waver in Oswald’s voice. He can feel his own heartbeat rock his whole body.

Not wanting to blow this misunderstanding out of proportion, he tries to stay very still in his seat, half-facing the sofa, where Oswald is resolutely staring at the screens, but quite obviously paying attention to Ed more than anything else. He looks ready to jump up and run, and destroy anything in his path. Ed’s admiration for his tenacity is rearing its head again.

“Oswald, I saved you. I… What did you think I was going to do to you?”

Oswald takes a breath, chest stuttering when his ribs start complaining, and shakes his head.

“I don’t know. Obviously you’re not just trying to kill me.”

“I haven’t thought about killing you in years” Ed gasps out, honesty taking over before he can calculate his answer, “I was miserable when you were dead.”

Oswald huffs a forced laugh, then turns to him finally and his eyes look cold, that affection from before buried deep beneath his hard stare.

“I wasn’t dead.”

Ed nods and holds his gaze.

“I don’t have a vendetta against you, nor any grand scheme, not anymore” he says quietly, hoping Oswald is able to read his sincerity, “Quite the opposite, actually.”

Oswald’s eyes widen incrementally, but he doesn’t look away, and he doesn’t go soft, and he’s making Ed think he’s fucked them up beyond repair, until he turns to the screens again and his body visibly relaxes. Ed releases a breath he hadn’t noticed he’s been holding and he’s only now wondering if his past actions have scarred Oswald so deeply that he will really make it impossible for them to ever get any closer than they are now. After all that has passed between them since No Man’s Land, Oswald doesn’t trust him.

“So what’s the incentive for the bat to find your boxes?” Oswald asks and Ed is thankful for the change in topic even though his heart sinks to the bottom of his shoes. He’s never been good at this, he should have figured Oswald would not respond well to him just treating him nicely. But it’s not as if he’d planned this out, he’d just acted on his instincts to be kind to the man- because Oswald is injured _and_ because of his new awareness of his feelings towards Oswald.

“I’m thinking hostages” he explains, distracted, “There’s a few people I’ve got on the radar- you know, the ‘elite’ of Gotham, quite a few faces in places they haven’t actually earned.”

“A lot to chose from” Oswald agrees and the mood shifts back to a friendly exchange.

Or at least it would, but Ed is somehow too worked up to concentrate on his project.

“Are you hungry?” he says and is already getting up, “I’m going to make something for lunch.”

He’s running away, he knows and it seems Oswald does as well, not deeming the statement worthy of an answer aside from a soft hum.

He’s still in his head about where he stands with Oswald when he’s cooking, and he finds himself operating on autopilot throughout the process. He hadn’t thought about Oswald’s mental state that much, but he should have- the last time he’d nursed the man back to health, he’d been difficult as well. Yes, he’d only just lost his mother back then, but Ed still gets the feeling Oswald’s prone to getting depressed when he feels useless. And Oswald’s moods can change at the drop of a hat on any given day, it’s plausible his shifts and suspicions are enhanced now.

Lost in his thoughts, a stack of pans drops from the pantry as he takes one out, and he actually jumps at the loud crashing bang. He sighs as he kneels down and clears them away and when he gets up again, he’s startled by Oswald standing in the door, watching him. How can he be this good at creeping up on people even when he’s all injured?

It hits him suddenly, how scary Oswald can be. He knows pretty much everything about Oswald’s past and of course he’s been on the bad end of the man’s grudges before, but this more than any physical threat is suddenly making his blood run cold- this feeling that Oswald is staring right into his soul and reading his mind.

He gives himself a mental slap and finds the strength to smile back at Oswald. After all, if he really could read his mind, he’d figure out Ed means him no harm. That would make things easier for him actually, if he didn’t have to explain his emotional state to Oswald. It’s only now that he realises what Oswald must have gone through trying to find the courage to confess to him. He’s never had a problem with telling his romantic interests how he feels about them- why is he so nervous about this now? Sure, he’s scared of destroying their truce that apparently was more delicate than he’d thought, but when it comes down to it he doesn’t think telling Oswald he’s come to love him will make him mad. Unless he thinks Ed’s lying to him. He’d probably kill Ed if he thinks he’s being made fun of. Oh boy, getting Oswald to trust him might make his list of priorities after all.

“Don’t you think it’s time to tell me what the hell is wrong with you?” Oswald says sternly, as Ed resumes making their meals. He keeps his hands busy as he thinks of a response.

“Do you have a chip in your head again or something?”

Ed can’t hold down a laugh. Or something.

“No, I’m pretty sure I don’t.”

“That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“Oswald” Ed starts, turning to him slightly as some vegetables keep sizzling on the stove, “I know you don’t exactly believe me right now, but all I want is for you to get better. We’re friends. At one point you have to put a little faith in me.”

Oswald narrows his eyes and Ed can see his fingers twitch at his sides.

“But you’re acting strangely.”

“How so?” Ed leads him on, refocusing on the meal and Oswald sounds _mad_.

“Don’t belittle me like that! You know what I mean.”

Heaving a sigh, Ed finishes up the stir-fry and plates it. He’d rather not do this right now, when Oswald is wound up and Ed is distraught.

“You shouldn’t get so upset. We still have plenty of time to talk, let’s eat for now.”

Oswald is looking upwards as if praying to some deity to give him the strength not to strangle Ed.

“I swear, it’s nothing bad” Ed insists and carries the plates through the door, urging Oswald towards the couch and handing him one, while he sits on his desk with the other.

“I’m just glad you weren’t killed, and that you’re doing fine.”

Oswald watches him with a strange expression, until Ed adds “I promise”, and they both put their attention to their lunch. It seems to have been enough to ease Oswald’s mind a bit- after they’re done with the food, he’s visibly more relaxed and settles back into watching cartoons as Ed attempts to resume working on his riddles for the bat. They even fall right into talking about the project again.

He’d thought it would be annoying to have to deal with someone interjecting all kinds of comments as he assembles his little trick boxes and traps, but it actually spurs him on a bit and makes his mind more alert- explaining his inventions to Oswald makes him more aware of possible flaws or improvements, and while Oswald seems to zone out whenever Ed goes into specifics of his machinery, saying out loud what his next steps are somehow makes the vision of the finished project clearer. Maybe he should try talking to himself more when Oswald’s gone. Or did he use to do that anyway?

When he cleans away their plates and makes his cup of afternoon coffee, Oswald’s fast asleep on the couch, snoring lightly with his head lolling against the backrest. Ed snatches the remote from his sleeping form and turns off the screens. A bit of calm restored, he finds himself making some progress in the next hour, until he can hear the distinct sounds of a car pulling up outside and stopping by the warehouse.

Instantly alert, he flicks his systems back on and switches to the surveillance cameras outside. There’s someone exiting a vehicle and looking around as if to find out where he can enter the warehouse. It’s definitely a shady figure, a lanky young blonde who has small time criminal written all over him, the way he moves, even as he’s just lighting a cigarette and pulling a bag out of his car.

“Now who might you be…” Ed mumbles and frowns when the man notices the camera and waves up into it. This isn’t good- no one should know about this place. He has his thumb on a special remote under the desk for a trap right outside the warehouse doors, ready to take the guy’s head off with the push of one button.

Eyes never leaving the monitor that shows the man busy with his cigarette and looking over his shoulder in every direction, Ed pulls a makeshift intercom from a drawer in his desk and connects to the outside speaker.

“You have exactly 10 seconds to identify yourself.”

The man looks startled, searching for the source of the voice addressing him.

“8.”

“Ah, I” the blonde stammers, cigarette falling from his lips, “Name’s Jonny. Jonny Frost.”

“Never heard of you” Ed says and feels a smirk coming on. He’d actually been dying to try out his invention and this Jonny is standing at the exact perfect spot.

“Goodbye.”

“No, listen! Louie sent me? I came to deliver this phone and get a few signatures!”

Frantic now, the guy raises both arms, one to show the bag he’s holding and one in simple surrender. It matters not, Ed thinks, this one’s dodgy either way and he doesn’t like anyone knowing their whereabouts. He can check the contents of that bag later. He’s a flick of his thumb away from slicing the man in half, when he hears Oswald shift beside him.

“Yeah, that’s for me” the kingpin mumbles and sits up, then rolls his shoulders tenderly, hair dishevelled and eyes still fighting with sleep.

“You told someone where we are?” Ed asks him in disbelief, still watching Jonny on the monitor, as the blonde seems to realise his 10 seconds are up and he’s still alive. He’s moving towards the gate and Ed thinks this one has some nerve.

“I wouldn’t take that step if I were you” he hisses through the intercom and Oswald groans, annoyance obvious in his sleepy tone.

“Weren’t you the one going on about trust just a while ago?” he mumbles and half turns so he can lean his upper body against the arm of the sofa and face the warehouse entrance, and Ed.

“Let him through.”

Ed thinks for a moment, but relents, mostly because he wants to make nice with Oswald. He’s still not thrilled about the dangers of blowing his hideout. But if he’s asking Oswald to take a chance on him, he figures he will have to take a chance on Oswald as well. He only hopes Oswald isn’t too naive about the solidarity of his goons.

Huffing in frustration, he pushes a few buttons on the remote and the small door built into the warehouse gate pops open. They both watch over the screen as Jonny hesitates, grows a pair and makes his way inside slowly. Oswald snickers, then yawns.

Ed leaves the monitor on, calculating the chances of an army of gangster or police cars descending upon his lair any minute; but he still keeps his gaze trained on the man himself, as Jonny stalks up to them through the hall, eyes darting to all sides as if he was expecting a trap to come down on him from somewhere. He’s not exactly wrong there.

“What- Louie sent you, because he’s too scared to come here himself?” Oswald asks, smirking at Jonny as he steps up to them. Ed is thinking about triggering that trap door beneath him if the blonde comes any closer. Luckily for him, he doesn’t, he stops a few feet from Ed’s desk and stands there awkwardly, gaze dancing back and forth between The Penguin, comfortably reclined on the sofa with his head resting on his bandaged arm, and The Riddler, who’s very obviously dismembering Jonny in his mind.

“Ah, the guys weren’t exactly lining up to come here, no…” Jonny drawls, now resolutely focusing on his boss, and trying to keep his quick, terrified glances at Ed to a minimum.

“Well, bring it over here” Oswald says and Jonny nods, swallows against a lump in his throat. He’s walking around the desk slowly, and Ed is turning in his chair at the same pace, making sure he’s facing the blonde every step of the way. While he’s apprehensive about the whole ordeal, and Jonny seems simply anxious, Oswald watches the two of them with unconcealed bemusement.

When Jonny puts the bag on the backrest of the sofa and opens it up, Ed pulls a gun out of a drawer beneath his desk and puts it in his lap, releasing the safety with a click. Oswald has the nerve to snicker, and Ed thinks he looks almost dopey, maybe still lingering on the edge of his nap.

Jonny pulls out a folder and Oswald sits up as he takes it from him and sifts through the papers.

“I, ehm, don’t exactly know what these are, I haven’t…”

“Good boy” Oswald mumbles, distracted while reading through the files, “You’re not supposed to know.”

Ed hates this guy with a vengeance. Has he always been this prone to jealousy?

Jonny clears his throat and reaches back into the bag and Ed puts his finger on the pistol’s trigger, but it really is only a mobile phone that the blonde produces and hands over to Oswald, who’s still reading.

“Pen” he says and Jonny seems a bit panicked, patting down his cheap blue suit as if he’s hoping he could make one appear by sheer will. Ed rolls his eyes, reaches over to his desktop with his free hand and grabs a pen, holds it out to Jonny, who takes a second to decide what the better option is: letting Oswald wait, or accepting anything Ed hands him. He does accept the pen though in the end and hands it to Oswald. Doesn’t even thank him, the little prick.

Oswald signs his name on a few of the documents and Jonny shifts about nervously, eager to get out of the situation as quickly as possible.

“Have Louie give me a call when the lawyers get these” Oswald tells Jonny as he’s handing the files back to him and the blonde fumbles to get them back into the bag. Ed stares at him a bit harder, just to raise his anxiety level.

When Jonny keeps standing there and shuffling from foot to foot, Oswald raises his eyebrows at him.

“Ehm, you’re done here. Goodbye.”

“Right” the blonde mumbles quickly and hurries to get out of the warehouse, Ed turning in his chair upon his retreat the same way he had when Jonny had approached. He keeps watching him until the door slams, then on the monitor lighting another cigarette and driving off. Finally breathing a bit easier, but still concerned about the weak link in their secrecy, Ed puts away his gun and leans back in his chair, directing his attention back to Oswald.

Who is staring at him with a mixture of amusement and disgust. Before he can berate the man or defend himself though, Oswald changes the topic.

“Don’t you have some wine or anything of the sort?”

Ed blinks at him a few times.

“You are on several drugs, I’m not giving you alcohol.”

Oswald sighs as dramatically as he can with his limited lung capacity, and holds his hand out to Ed.

“Then change the channel at least.”

Ed hands him the remote and walks off to the kitchenette, getting two bottles of ginger ale. He’s pretty sure as far as mood changes go, he’s observing a good one in Oswald, but the man seems almost eerily calm- he’s tempted to call it smug- and Ed just can’t think clearly while still feeling upset about people knowing of his hideout.

He hands Oswald a drink and Oswald raises an eyebrow at him, then sighs, disappointed.

“Cheers” he mumbles sarcastically and takes a swig.

“I know you expect me to let it go, but if this idiot blows our cover, I…” Ed trails off, sipping on his own bottle.

Oswald huffs, and Ed’s not sure if he’s laughing into his drink or harrumphing.

“Yeah, what was all that watchdog behaviour about anyway, are you my daddy now-?”

Ed knows this is by far not one of his greatest moments, but he’s entirely unprepared for how his brain shuts down at the stupid facetious comment, and he chokes on a sip of his ginger ale, snorts and splutters the mouthful all over the floor between the sofa and the desk, and his shirt front.

Oswald jumps as it happens.

“What is wrong w-“

“I’m gonna go take a shower real quick” Ed interjects and flees to the bathroom. Yes, a cold one actually.

~ ~ ~

They don’t talk about it over the next days, Oswald had already addressed Ed’s strange change in behaviour, so it seems unnecessary to do so again, and Ed throws himself fully into his project, his work only disrupted by a few bouts of paranoia about them being found and ambushed. If it wasn’t so sad and confusing, Oswald would find it rather intriguing to watch this man who thinks himself so rational go through all these emotional switches.

He is getting used to accepting the idea that Ed means him no harm, in fact it’s kind of obvious what is going on here at this point, but he can’t help feeling overly cautious. The last time he’d let himself believe in any romantic intentions behind Ed’s affectionate behaviour towards him, it hadn’t turned out so well for him- or Ed.

It makes the daily injury checkup more than awkward, this thing they’re both resolutely choosing not to mention- because now that he pays more attention he gets the feeling that Ed is touching him so gently, holding himself back so much that Oswald thinks one of these days he might just snap and pounce his patient. And Oswald- well at first he thinks it very funny and almost karmic, and is content to keep observing the brunette’s obvious inner struggle and wondering when they will reach the point where it all boils over, but after a few days it turns into frustration. Aren’t they both on the same page already? Or is Ed seriously still denying his own feelings? Maybe he’d misunderstood any of the weird clues Ed had thrown his way. They have enough time to talk, he’d said- sure, but at this point Oswald is wondering if Ed will ever be ready to talk about this.

Ed assures him his wound is healing nicely, but he doesn’t feel like he’s making any progress here either- he still can’t move his arm without a bout of pain that manages to pierce through his medicated state, and he still cannot take a deep breath without going into a coughing fit that leaves him more sore than he ever thought he could be. And he’s been _sore_ before.

It’s all getting very tiresome to him, and he doesn’t have much by way of distraction- running his business over the phone is taking up less than minutes of his day, and he can only watch so many hours of TV shows or news until he falls back into brooding about Ed. His conclusion is that if they’re ever going to get anywhere, he’s going to be the one to force Ed’s hand. Because of course he is, hasn’t it always been like that between them. So after their dinner that night, as he’s sprawled on his usual spot on the couch and Ed is sifting through the mountain of papers on his desk, he goes into offense.

“Ed.”

“Hm?”

“Why am I here?” he asks and wishes his voice would sound steadier, not as breathless. He’s nervous about this after all. Ed looks confused and a bit offended at what he thinks is a stupid question.

“Eh, because you got injured and I-“

“No, I mean, why are _you_ here- with me.”

He keeps his eyes trained on a loose thread in the duvet cover on his lap and wonders how to elaborate, because Ed stays silent.

“You could have handed me over to my guys.”

He hears Ed huff and goes on quickly before the brunette can disrupt his trail of thought.

“Days ago even, or I could have left with that Jonny.”

“I don’t trust that guy, do you even know anything abou-“

“That’s not the point!” he hisses, and he should have figured he would be getting angry throughout this discussion. With Ed, everything is like pulling teeth.

“Do you really think by now I don’t know what’s going on?”

He ventures a gaze at Ed, who stands there looking like a fish out of water, but doesn’t reply.

“Just tell me!”

Ed opens his mouth, gasps, and then closes it again, and Oswald suddenly feels like he’s going to cry. He doesn’t want to do that in front of Ed, or because of him. It’s very fitting, isn’t it, that he has to _beg_ for someone to love him.

He can’t deal with people when his thoughts are getting this dark, he’s going to do or say something he’s going to regret again, he just knows, so he pulls himself together and gets up.

“You… you’re such a fucking coward” he mumbles, as he flees towards the bathroom very much like Ed had done a few days ago. He’s shaking, and he’s in pain, and he feels utterly hopeless, and it’s all just so stupid- because he’d hoped, even when he knew hoping would hurt him in the end, he’d hoped that they might heal, that they could finally figure this out. He’s been holding all these emotions down for so long, and not let himself believe in some sort of closure to them and then Ed went and broke through his barriers making him think his love might be reciprocated and now here he is, _right back where they started_. He wonders if he is insane after all, repeating all his past mistakes of misinterpreting Ed’s affection for him.

Trying to get out of his head, he strips out of the scrubs, which is a challenge in itself, and more so in his upset state, then takes off the bandages around his ribs and arm, and steps into the shower booth. It’s tedious to do this, even just the act of standing on his feet after lying in bed for so many hours a day is hard, and every move he makes with his arm or upper body sends bolts of pain throughout his system. The shower takes longer than he has anticipated just because he has to hold on to the wall, the shower head for support, bouts of dizziness and the residual aches stalling him, but the warm stream feels heavenly on his bruised skin and the steam in his lungs somehow eases his breathing. He feels calmer afterwards, tired beyond just physical exhaustion, but more clear-headed.

Until he’s dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his hips, and Ed enters the small bathroom. There’s a fresh bandage and iodine salve in his hands and Oswald can’t look into his eyes, isn’t sure he can do this right now, but what he is sure about is that he’s not steady enough to get Ed to stray off his course, not without one of them ending up dead, and he doesn’t exactly have either the upper hand nor a weapon nearby to take his chances.

They’re both uncharacteristically quiet as Ed dresses his wound and Oswald is beyond anxious- a minute ago he was glad to have gone numb, but he’s right back on the verge of tears again and he wants to tear Ed’s head off for making him feel that way. On the other hand he feels so tired of lashing out against Ed- so he doesn’t know where that leaves him. He would have thought it Stockholm syndrome if not for the fact that he’s been in love with this man for years now.

Then Ed kneels in front of him and touches his waist so gently, palms resting right on his bruises, that have been hidden under layers of gauze for almost two weeks now. Oswald wants him so much, he feels like a clown in a caricature of his own desires, helpless and breathless as Ed leans in to place a kiss on his stomach. He’s shivering and Ed’s lips just stay there and the brunette sighs against his skin. And Oswald taps into his last reserve of feeling like he deserves just a bit more than this by way of a resolution.

“No” he gasps and his sight is getting blurry, “No! You don’t get to… weasel your way out of this!”

He wipes the back of his hand across his face in an attempt to delay his crying, but he can feel the heat in the corners of his eyes and the trembling in his lips, and he thinks Ed is looking up at him, but at this point he’s just a cloud of colours.

“You have to use your fucking words! Tell me!” he demands desperately, voice cracking and shaky.

With his tears threatening to spill, he can only see Edward in frames of blurs as the taller one gets up and gently cradles his face. Ed uses both his thumbs to slowly wipe the moisture off Oswald’s eyelashes and Oswald hears himself give a big sniff and then a series of gasps. He’s almost hyperventilating, partly due to his sore ribs, but also this overwhelming anxiety. Then all there is is Ed’s face up close to his and their foreheads touching, and Ed is looking into his eyes with intent, urgency almost, and a shattering amount of unbridled devotion.

“I love you, Oswald” he says quietly and hearing it breaks some sort of dam, because Oswald is really crying now, unstoppable and intense, and through it all Ed keeps a hold of his face, places a kiss on his lips and then just holds him, shushing him quietly.

And damn his suspicious nature and this doubts about honesty- he knows Ed, and he choses to believe him.

He’s been vulnerable around people his whole life and constantly been fighting against it, because he hates the feeling, but he has to admit this is different- Ed is right there with him, catching him in his fall, so he doesn’t just feel as weak and ridiculous as he usually does when he has to bare himself in front of someone else. It actually fills him with relief to let it all go and not be judged for it. Ed’s embrace keeps him grounded and safe in the process, as his brain and heart try to work through all those conflicting emotions while he comes apart.

When he’s calmed down he realises he’s got his fingers clawed into Ed’s shirt, and he’s left a wet spot on it, right there on the man’s shoulder, where he’d kept his face pressed tightly against him. He raises his head and Ed runs the back of his fingers across his cheeks, so carefully, pointer fingers right there on his waterline to catch the rest of his tears. Then he smiles weakly at Oswald.

“Sorry it took me so long.”

Oswald doesn’t even know what to say. It’s hard to go through this with his injuries, his breath is all over the place and and he’s still wobbly on his feet. He wouldn’t change anything about this moment though as Ed leans in and kisses him again. It’s so slow and tender and he’s never had this before, his brain shutting down as he melts into everything he’s feeling. The last time he’d been kissed was by a girl in second grade and the day after she’d flushed his pencil case down the toilet with a group of boys who thought he was weird.

Ed doesn’t kiss him like a child though, this is personal and sensual and he’s pulling on Ed’s shirt again, pain in his arm be damned, because he needs to hold onto _something_ when Ed tilts his head just so and nips on his lower lip. He’s gasping and then Ed’s tongue is touching his, and all his blood rushes south so quickly it makes him dizzy. Ed keeps kissing him until he’s practically whining into the brunette’s mouth, full on shaking in his arms.

He feels Ed’s fingertips travel across his skin, down the sides of his neck, over his shoulders and to his waist, dipping just slightly beneath the flimsy towel wrapped around him and pulling Oswald tighter against him. Ed is still very careful with his touches, but the movement makes his erection press deliciously against Ed’s thigh anyway, and Oswald’s whole body twitches at the contact.

He’s this close to complaining when Ed pulls away with a little peck to the corner of his mouth, but Ed is going to his knees once more and Oswald thinks he might faint from the image alone, and its implications. He’s holding onto the sink next to him with his good arm, injured one lying useless on Ed’s shoulder.

“What are you-“

“It’s okay” Ed says quietly and places a kiss on his stomach again, fingers searching for the tugged in edge of the towel on Oswald’s hips. “Let me take care of you.”

Oswald is sure he’s bright red everywhere, or maybe a ghastly white because he still feels like he’s going to just keel over and lose consciousness. This is so embarrassing, how do people do this, here are all his deepest and darkest desires laid out for Ed to see, and he’s so scared suddenly of everything that might go wrong, everything Ed might think about him. But he guesses that’s sort of the point- and surely Ed has seen worse sides of him.

“You… have been doing that” he whispers shakily and dares placing his fingers on the top of Ed’s head.

Ed just smiles up at him fondly and pushes his glasses up his nose, then goes back to peppering kisses across his stomach, and pulls until the towel falls away. The air in the tiny bathroom is thankfully still warm- and steamy- but Oswald finds himself gasping anyway, the dry gel in Ed’s hair cracking under his fingertips as he grabs a handful. Ed hums and scrapes his teeth lightly over Oswald’s hipbone, and when his palm wraps around the base of Oswald’s cock, Oswald feels his knees go weak. The hold he has on Ed’s head is more for stability than anything, and it must be painful for Ed, but he can’t stop tightening his grip as Ed’s mouthing across his lower stomach and then his dick.

The groan he makes sounds absolutely undone- which is how he feels; he’s never been touched intimately by anyone but himself, and _ohgod_ , he can feel Ed’s breath on his balls and then his eyes roll back in his head when Ed’s lips wrap around him. This is going to be over so quickly, he thinks as he wishes this could go on forever.

He’s whimpering when Ed is testing out how far he can go, taking a bit more of him every time he goes down, and Oswald’s toes are scraping across the tiled floor, curling and uncurling with every move Ed makes. He’d have thought his nerves would make it impossible to simply enjoy this, but he can’t even help it- he’s pretty much done for when Ed starts using his tongue.

And then Ed is palming his balls and quickening his pace just a little bit and it’s all too much- there’s no fighting it, he’s on that plateau right before the fall, floating in that feeling of pure bliss. He’s glad his brain apparently works well enough to tell him he should probably warn Ed.

“Oh… I’m… I-”

And Ed _hums_ around him happily, the vibrations rolling all the way along his _spine_ and that’s just not fair. The feeling alone would have been enough to push him over, but the idea that Ed doesn’t mind him coming in his mouth is the last straw. And he goes and does just that.

He blacks out for a bit, thinks he hears Ed say “Whoah” or something like that, and when he can process anything again, he’s back in Ed’s embrace and the brunette is chuckling at him. Oswald wants to punch him. He kisses him instead.

Then a full body shiver wrecks his body and Ed leans him against the sink. Ed’s eyes are still full of amusement and fondness, but his expression seems a little worried.

“I’ll get you some pyjamas, wait here” he says and Oswald doesn’t know what else to do anyway, he’s completely out of it, and the fact that Ed must have _swallowed_ enters his thoughts and he can’t really form a thought beside that.

“That’s all it took to get out of that horrible hospital clothing?” he hears himself croak as Ed leaves the bathroom, and rummages around next door.

“Eh, it was just the easiest to put you in when you were out of it. Didn’t realise you hated them so much.”

When Ed comes back with a T-shirt and sweatpants he notices he’s just standing there stark naked and still very breathless and zoned out, and this time he’s sure he’s blushing. Somehow Ed manages to be completely cavalier about the situation as he hands over the clothes. Oswald thinks he’s going to leave again and let him change, but Ed steps in close and tilts his head up.

“Are you ok?”

And if his chest could expand more than those few increments until his ribs complain, Oswald is sure it would have burst with the bout of affection that explodes inside him. He can’t speak, so he just nods, and lets Ed kiss him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got off track so easily while writing this and then I rewatched some gotham eps (or i guess ed parts) and I ONLY JUST realised what ed’s license plate says in s02 and then I had a laughing fit. see this is where my mind’s at sometimes and why I take forever to write literally anything xDDD  
> also WHAT is that lighted box ed has next to his piano that says ‘zelda knows what you should be’ on it? xDDD  
> aaah s02 is teh best isn’t it. certainly when it comes to ed’s hair. I am sooo partial to the curlies <3  
> am i disrespecting batman by not capitalising his name? hmmmaybe. there is no reasoning to this. quick think eehm ok so this is from ed and oz’ perspective so any disrespect is from them! cuz batman is not established in gotham enough yet! listen one of them was a child for years about ed’s villain name, so why should he be any different with this weirdo vigilante.  
> and i’m sry for the jonny bashing, i’ve always thought he was a bit of an idiot- that typical small time criminal who wants to become powerful and rich but has no actual plan or even a notion of what that reality entails? i think he was meant to come across that way, and i think he’s annoying. so imma make fun of him xD and he’s so philosophical about it, i just can’t, like hun this is why u don’t mess with the big rogues u so out of your league. ok imma shut up now
> 
> i guess this is basically where this story ends- i have nothing much more than smut planned for the next chap :P  
> cuz poor injured pengy needs his cherry popped xDD  
> sue me. you’re welcome.  
> nah that’s not actually true there will be a kinda resolution to this mess xD

**Author's Note:**

> so yeah I got maybe one more fic in my head that i maybe will see if it’s worth putting in the effort of jutting it down (an actual established relationship one can u believe it, me writing something that is not a coming together fic)
> 
> one more important note, so yeah since writing in this fandom i get why the last episode is so frowned upon; cuz I liked it when i watched it and i still do think it’s a good ending for the show, but jfc 10 years? that’s just phew i mean it works but also erm yeah i won’t blame ya if u imagine this fic taking place maybe 2 or 5 years later instead of 10 fking years later xD  
> AND- oh the attempted jim gordon murder is hard on oz ain’t it- kinda works for this fic, no reference but yeah he is actually a fugitive here so meh; but on the bigger batverse scale it kinda sucks that the end of this show sets penguin and riddler both up to already be notorious AND imprisoned. cuz that kinda implies that during batman times penguin is like full on running from the law as well as batman, which is counterproductive to setting him up as a mafia style crime lord who evades the law with his shenanigans isn’t it?  
> gawd me and my paragraphs of explaining the setup of a fic xDDD i’ll shut up now.
> 
> oh and finally- hmmmmmsame thing i said in my last fic applies here, i’ll just paste it below:  
> ok so hear me out, I know Pengy’s put on some and that is usually how he should appear during Bat-times and stuff- now I don’t wanna start a whole body positivity war here, if curvy Penguin is your thing, good for you :) there’s a lotta fanfics out there (good ones too, i’ve read them :P) but then this one is probably not the one for you  
> I dunno, I think it’s just that obviously I got into this ship with Pengy and Riddler as they are portrayed in the show, so that is how I kinda imagine them when I think of this ship. (also maybe cuz I’m a 90s kid, curvy Pengy will always be Danny DeVito in my head and, while I know he was supposed to be gross in the movie, well… he’s really gross in the movie xD hey, I know, there’s a kink for everyone, I don’t judge, but it really doesn’t do anything for me…*shivers)  
> so yeah, Robin kinda lanky Pengy it is here. now I have this weird thing where I try to make fanfics work with what the canon has given us as much as possible, so there will be an actual (kinda) reasoning as to why he lost the weight again xD sue me  
> I guess if that triggers you, you have been warned.  
> just here to write some stoopid fanfic that might amuse someone, so again- don’t mean to upset anyone, but this is this ship in my head. don’t like, don’t read.
> 
> as for ed:  
> now I’m no psychologist and I think things you see in a show from a character’s point of view are always a little unreliable, so I ain’t gonna try to explain Ed, but I’ve read a lotta fics where he’s still unstable, a lotta fics where he’s two complete different personalities in one, etc etc.  
> now I’m kinda in between on whether The Riddler is his own separate identity, or just a sorta personalisation of Ed’s darker thoughts and wants (if that makes sense)- but I’ve also read a few fics where (set during later seasons or after the show) he’s basically full on changed to that “Riddler-personality” and at least in this fic- this is not the case. to me it always kinda felt like over the course of the show the two sides of him just kinda blended together and combined slowly, and I kinda like this idea of him best- that as soon as he accepted both his for lack of a better word personalities, he became one personality, that has the sorta flamboyance and self confidence of Riddler, but also that odd nerdiness and sweetness of Ed.  
> hope that makes sense in some way xD  
> phew. overly explained trigger warnings done. xD
> 
> oh yeah and jonny jonny! he rly has no business being here except that I love that joker issue a lot, so I thought heh why not put him in this universe xD jj doing the small fry jobs no one else wants to do lol lil cameo for ya (ch.2)


End file.
